


Strange Magic.

by excitablesatan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All characters are probably a little ooc, Eighth year at hogwarts, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, From a while ago, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Past Romione, Post Battle of Hogwarts, Relationship(s), Ron!bashing, Starts off slow, dramione - Freeform, first fic, gets better I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:58:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excitablesatan/pseuds/excitablesatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything Hermione knows is questioned, and in this moment of weakness she is forced to make friends out of people she would never normally associate herself with. Will anything in her life ever be sane again? Dramione.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Magic.

Hermione Granger stormed out of the Gryffindor common rooms feeling more furious that she ever remembered feeling before. She couldn't believe Ronald! The nerve of him to have cheated on her with Lavender Brown for two whole months and then try to pin the blame on her! 

"Listen, 'Mione, I get that you want to wait, but I'm a man. I need to fulfill my desires somewhere!" he had said to her. As if that would justify it! And if that wasn't enough, then that bitch Lavender had actually had the nerve to storm into the Gryffindor common rooms, which she shouldn't even have been in, and start yelling at her. Well that was it. No more. She was done with the pair of them. They could just go die for all she cared. It was so not her problem any more. If Ronald wanted to go off and marry Lavender and have seventeen ginger, stupid little children then she wouldn't even send a card.

Hermione snickered slightly at the thought of what Lavender Brown would look like if she had seventeen kids, but the sound was quickly replaced with a groan as she realized that each of them would probably end up with a combination of their father's cluelessness and their mother's superficiality.

"Are you quite alright, Hermione?" Hermione turned around to see Nearly-Headless Nick floating her way.  
"Hi, Nick." She couldn't keep the sadness out of her voice.  
"Somebody's feeling bluue," Nick sang comfortingly. "Want to tell me what's wrong?" Hermione found herself telling Nick everything, and was surprised to hear a chuckle escape his lips when she told him how she had gotten a little worked up and ended up slapping Lavender and punching Ronald in the face.

"Honestly, 'Mione, the boy had it coming. He should never have lied to you like that." A giggle left Hermione's lips at these words and she felt lucky to have him to talk to right now. Ron was probably getting an earful from both Harry and Ginny right now. There was no way her friends would let this one slide. "I can pop my head up through his food at breakfast if you'd like? That always gives Him a fright!" She laughed out loud at this, the sound filling the empty corridor that they were walking down. Several of the portraits were awoken by the sound looking very ticked off. 

"You know what, Nick? That would be lovely." She said, still giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Then so it shall be, Hermione." He replied with a smile. "Now, alas, I must leave. Dumbledore has asked all of the ghosts to his office early tomorrow for a little chat about who has been convincing the first years that Professor Sprout is an animagus!"  
"Aww, okay, Nick. See you tomorrow!" "Bye, Hermione!" Nick floated away with a cheery wave leaving Hermione alone again. She started to walk back towards the Gryffindor common rooms, not actually knowing what time it was or how long she had been out for. It had been after hours when she had stormed out, but she had been so mad at Ronald she couldn't stand being in the same room as him, never mind his prissy little 'girlfriend' as she called herself. They were sure to be in bed by now though, so she would be safe. As she neared the Common rooms she felt herself grow sleepier. She took a glance at one of the grandfather clocks that dotted the corridor. It was nearly one o'clock! She must have been talking to Nick for longer than she thought! No wonder she was tired. It was a well known fact in Gryffindor that Hermione Granger never went to bed late, since sleep was so important to learning. 

She rounded a corner and soon the last moving staircase was in sight. Just a few more steps until bed! Bliss! 

'Fortuna Major.' she mumbled, stifling a yawn. Nothing happened. 'Fortuna Major' she repeated, a little more forcefully this time. Still nothing. She looked up annoyed only to find that, to her horror, the Fat Lady wasn't there. She stared at the empty portrait for what seemed like a lifetime before snapping out of her trance.

How could she be so stupid! Everyone in Gryffindor knew that after midnight the Fat Lady always went down to the second floor for singing lessons with the portrait of an opera singer. No one knew her name, but that was just because she was too busy singing to give it out. 

Well now she was rightly and truly screwed. She had no way to get into the Gryffindor common room, or any other common room for that matter. There would be no one else out this late, so she couldn't ask for help. Her pleas to the surrounding paintings fell on deaf ears when they told her to 'stop that racket' because they were trying to sleep. 

She saw no other option but to wander around hoping to find someone until her tiredness overwhelmed her. She set off walking, but had absolutely no luck whatsoever and she was growing steadily more exhausted.

After a few more minutes she gave in and slid down into the tiny gap between two suits of armor. She shut her eyes and was asleep within seconds.


	2. Draco.

Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy sped down the west corridor, a relaxed expression upon his face. He had to get back to the Slytherin dorms soon or someone would find him not only out of bed, but still in half his uniform. 

He wouldn't allow himself to worry. 

After everything that happened last year, he didn't come back to Hogwarts just to allow himself to worry about petty things like getting caught out of bed. 

Of course, that didn't mean he wanted to get caught. Mcgonagall had had enough trouble deciding wether or not to even let him in the school after the happenings of last year, but she had eventually decided to let him attend his eighth year at Hogwarts since he couldn't be blamed for anything he did last year. 'None of it was Mr Malfoy's choice, after all. '

She certainly didn't seem happy about an Ex-Death Eater within the school grounds, but that made sense. No one seemed happy to be anywhere around him anymore. There were a few of his old friends who had stuck by his side, but most had abandoned him long before the school term had even started. 

And the whispering never stopped. Obviously no one ever said anything to his face, but he could tell. Rumors like those would haunt him his entire life. 

He chuckled humorlessly as he thought to himself 'Wow. Classes haven't even started yet and people are already avoiding you. Nice going, Malfoy.'

The long, black corridor stretched out in front of him as he wondered if he had misjudged this journey, as it was seeming to take a lot longer than he had thought.

'Ah, well ,' he thought 'anything can happen when you're alone with your thoughts.'

Draco heard a quiet sound off to his right. 

'It was probably nothing' he thought, and shrugged it off, slightly more on edge than before. 

There it was again. Like a soft sob, off in the distance. He sighed as he realized it must have just been Moaning Myrtle terrorizing some first year who had been foolish enough to use the bathrooms in the middle of the night. 

After the third sob Draco had had enough. 

'Shut up, Myrtle!' he hissed into the blackness. After a minute or two of complete silence, he was satisfied that Myrtle had got the message, so decided to carry on walking, in case someone had heard him. 

He got around half way down the corridor before hearing another noise, slightly different this time. It sounded a little like a small sigh, followed by a shuffling sound. 

Thinking it was just Moaning Myrtle messing around again, he heaved a sigh and whisper-yelled 

'Myrtle! Shut up!' 

before he carried on walking forwards. 

He only got a few steps further before feeling something hit his legs and crashing to the floor. 

Turning himself around on the floor, he heard a quiet sigh and a woman's disgruntled voice say

'What?'

Wait... He knew that voice...

'Granger?!'


	3. Corridor Conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a short chapter, but after this they start to get longer. 
> 
> ~Thank you for reading!~

'Granger?!'

'Malfoy!?'

'What the hell are you doing here?' 

Draco demanded, straightening his robes that had been knocked askew by the fall. 

'Well I could ask you the same bloody question!'

Hermione snapped, rubbing her shins; they were sore from when Draco had fallen over them. She was in no mood to be messed around with tonight. Especially not from the man who had not only taunted and teased her for the past seven years, but had also just interrupted her sleep by stomping on her shins and then had the audacity to yell at her! 

'Alright, Granger, no need to bite my head off!'

'Well not that it's any of your business, but I was going for a nice, relaxing stroll around the castle. Alone. At night.' she answered unconvincingly. 

'Oh, really? I'm surprised that Weasley wasn't trailing after you like a lost puppy.'

'Don't talk to me about that cretin!'

Hermione replied bitterly. 

'Trouble in paradise?'

Hermione could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

'Why should you care, Malfoy?'

'Well, Granger, I am very interested to find out why a lovers tiff between you and Weasel-bee ends up with you asleep on the floor at this ungodly hour.'

From what she could see in the dim light, he was still smiling, but the odd thing was it wasn't bothering Hermione nearly as much as it should have. 

She sighed heavily and placed her head gently in her dainty hands. 

'Fine, just... don't tell anyone?'

She found herself telling Malfoy everything; from her punching Ron to Nick's kind words and ending with her collapsing of exhaustion right in the place she still sat. 

Draco let out a long breath and there was a moment of silence before he finally said,

'You actually punched Weasley?'

'That's what you took from that?!'

She practically yelled, despite the fact she was trying not to smile. 

Why was she trying not to smile?

'Well, I've wanted to punch Weasley for years, and you beat me to it!'

Hermione found herself stifling giggles again. 

'I'm just saying, Granger, you have quite the right hook: I should know!'

Hermione lost it. She was full on belly laughing on the floor, and she had to cover her mouth with both hands just so she didn't wake the whole castle. 

Her outburst earned a small 'Hey!' from Draco, but he didn't sound too offended. 

It was strange, she had never seen this side of Draco before. It was nice, before she recalled the happenings of last year. She composed herself, remembering who she was in the presence of.

'Anyway, come on.' Malfoy said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the two. 

'Come where?' Hermione asked. 

'Slytherin dorms.'

'Why?'

'Well I don't know about you, Granger, but i don't think that the gap between two statues is a particularly fabulous makeshift bed- no offense- and there are bound to be plenty going spare in the Slytherin dorms. Hence, you actually getting some sleep before lessons actually start. 

'Why would you care about a mudblood like me?' Hermione whispered. 

She heard a shuffling sound and assumed that Draco had got down onto her level. 

'Listen here, Granger. We all change after last year, and believe it or not I am not exempt from that. Now I don't expect anyone to suddenly forgive me and be willing to bury the hatchet immediately, I know that this year I'll have to work harder than ever in more ways than one. I'll have to work for forgiveness, work for acceptance. Work to convince people that I'm not who they've known for the past seven years. However, if any of that is going to happen, I need one more chance. From everyone, you included. This could be that chance. And if I do you wrong again, feel free to cut me out again. But you'll never know if you don't try it. 

Hermione had sat silenced all the while Draco was talking, and only now did she clear her throat and stand up. 

"One more chance, then?" She said, smoothing her clothes. "Well then, you better lead the way."


	4. Quiet queries

Draco Malfoy hurried smoothly down the west corridor. He wasn't going to wait for Granger, if she wanted a bed for the night then she could keep up herself. 

He knew she would. Anything was better than the space between two statues, after all. 

You'd think that the cleverest witch of our age could make herself a proper bed. Or even just not get locked out in the first place. 

"Will there be any space for me?" a mousy voice behind him whispered. Ah, so she was there. Good to know. 

"Half of the third and fourth years don't make it to their beds anyway, you're fine." he replied, a small smile gracing his lips before he thought better of himself. 

"Where would they go if they weren't in bed?" 

Wow, she really was oblivious. 

"Well, some of them pass out in the common rooms, and some of thence end up in someone else's bed." he spelled it out for her, trying to be considerate but stifling a laugh at the same time. 

"Oh" 

He just had to smile at that. It was too hard not to. 

Somehow he managed to compose himself before he burst out laughing - couldn't have Granger thinking he had gone soft now, could he - and carried on along the corridor wearing his trademark smirk slightly wider than usual. 

After a few minutes, he was starting to think that she had decided against the idea and left, before he heard a quiet

"Um...Draco?"

"Yes, Granger?" 

Wow. That had sounded more exasperated than he ha intended. 

"Oh, um... never mind. "

Great. Now she thought he hated her again. 

"Just a bit preoccupied. Go on."

Merlin's beard, he was going soft. 

"No, it's fine, it can wait."

He really didn't like this side of her. Not that she was dislikeable, but it could get irritating when she was so drawn into herself all the time. She was so shy, it was like they had never even met before. He much preferred the feisty, strong side of her that wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. Despite the fact that it was that side of her that broke his nose back in third year and had him drinking that awful bone-remedy for weeks. He shuddered at the thought. And to think, Pomfrey had had the nerve to chortle at his suffering. That wretch.

He was snapped out of his musings by another (slightly louder) stuttered statement from Hermione. 

"Uh.. Well I was just wondering, what exactly made you stop back there?"

"Other than the fact you attacked me in your sleep?" he joked. 

"How is it my fault if you didn't see my legs? The fact that you face planted the floor is completely irrelevant." she returned his sarcasm almost instantly. 

"Irrelevant?! Tell that to my nose; I think it's broken again!"

"I was sleeping! How was I supposed to know that you would trip over my legs?"

"I'm sorry, next time I go wandering the castle in the pitch black, I'll remember to check the gaps between statues to make sure that there aren't any witches using them as a makeshift bed before they decide to break my face!" she could hear the smirk in his voice. 

"You do that! And anyway, you aren't the only one with injuries. Im really not looking forward to my purple shins in the morning."

"You're the brightest witch of our age, I'm sure you'll think of something. Your healing skills can't be any worse than your bed-assembling skills."

This almost friendly banter continued for a while before they both realised that they were outside the entrance to the dorms.

Draco whispered the password into the darkness so quietly that Hermione couldn't even be certain if she heard him right, but apparently it was loud enough for the password to be both recognised and verified as they were let into the common rooms almost instantly. 

Hermione began to wonder whether or not this was all a huge mistake, but before she could back out she felt a rough, warm hand over her own gently pulling her forwards. 

"You coming?" he murmured. 

She didn't answer, she just lightly squeezed his hand and took a step forwards. 

After all, that was answer enough.


	5. Draco in the dark

Hermione fumbled her way through the darkness, her hand bumping into Draco's every now and then. She quickly realised what she was doing, unconsciously taking half a step away from him. What was she doing? Up until about half an hour ago she would have told anyone who asked that she hated him, and now look at her. Getting cosy with the enemy. 

Actually, that sounds all wrong. Draco isn't the enemy-she had said so herself many times. 

"He is just misunderstood," she had argued, "he just needs someone to show him right from wrong. He never had that before,so how is he meant to know?" 

That was back when Harry had thought he was a Death Eater. Okay, he had turned out to be right, but Hermione was the only one who still had faith in him after all the years he had tormented them. 

She herself thought that it had turned out to be false hope until that very evening. She had seen a different side of him tonight. It was a side that she hadn't seen since they were both children, and it rarely came out then. A side that she thought had vanished, but it turns out it was always there hiding under the surface. Tonight for the first time in a long time she had felt like he was showing what could possibly e the real him, buried under years of harsh conditioning and prejudice. 

This was a majorly weird experience. 

She lost her concentration somewhat when she heard a slight rustling followed by Malfoy whispering 'Lumos.'

However, instead of a harsh white glow being emitted from the tip of his wand like she expected, the entirety of the common rooms filled with a warm glow that didn't actually appear to have a source. It was just present. 

Hermione blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light after being in the dark for so long. When she looked around she was quite surprised. She had never been in the Slytherin common room before, and it seemed very cosy (for a dungeon, at least.)

She didn't have much time to look around before she realised that Draco was already half way up the stairs. Not wanting to be left behind, she quickly followed him across the room and up the steps before he got too far ahead of her. Part of her thought to say something about the fact that they were headed towards the boy's dorms and not the girl's-but she stopped herself. She was incredibly tired and any bed was better than no bed. After all, beggars can't be choosers. 

He led her past several beds, most of them full but a few still empty, before reaching one particular bed at the far end of the room with the curtains still closed. He swiftly drew back the curtains and gestured towards the bed. 

"Here you go. It's not much, but slightly better than where you were."

Hermione smiled and sat on the edge of the bed before whispering "Thank you, Draco. Now I might get a chance of getting a few hours sleep before lessons start tomorrow."

He chuckled quietly and wished her good night before he went back down the stairs. Hermione didn't get the chance to ask him where he was going because he was already gone. 

Shrugging it off, she loosened her shirt slightly and lay back on the bed, finally letting sleep consume her. 

Meanwhile, Draco lay on one of the leather sofas in the main common room, fully awake and eyes focused on the ceiling. Just thinking to himself. 

'Why the hell did I grab her hand? What, is Draco Malfoy turning into a pansy?! Just stop thinking about it, and her too. This is the last time I try to act nice. I won't need to anyway, people are already avoiding me. Great job.'

With that thought, he finally heaved a sigh, rolled over and went to sleep.


	6. Mad mornings

Hermione felt the light on her eyelids and rolled over gently in the four poster bed, fisting the silk sheets in her hand. 

Wait, she didn't have silk sheets. 

Where the bloody hell was she?!

She sat bolt upright in the bed, the events of last night slowly coming back to her. A slight smile crossed her face as she remembered Draco's kindness, but it was soon replaced by a look of sheer horror. 

She had overslept. She was going to be late for the very first day of lessons!

Scrambling out of bed as fast as she possibly could, she nearly fell over several times. Severely panicking now, she was starting to wonder if she would be able to run half way across the castle and back to the Gryffindor common rooms without anyone noticing her. She was silently cursing herself for not remembering that she would need her uniform, and had almost given up hope when she saw a scrap of red material out of the corner of her eye.

She glanced over and saw...her full uniform. Laid out neatly on an armchair by the bed. 

...Did Draco bring this in?

Never mind, no time to worry about that now. Getting ready in time for lessons was her number one priority. 

She gathered the uniform in her arms and went running downstairs in search of a bathroom to change in. Unsuccessfully. 

Draco was leaning against a table slowly eating an apple; apparently taking no notice of her as she ran back and forth, trying every single door she could find. 

She was getting restless now, and just trying the same doors over and over again. Thinking she had found the right door at last, she forcibly tugged it open, only to find a tall, wooden ladder now falling straight towards her person. 

She tensed up, waiting for the impact-

But it never came. 

She opened her eyes, and saw the ladder hovering, several centimetres away from her face. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Draco pointing his wand in her direction. 

The ladder folded itself up abruptly and the cupboard slammed shut. 

Not even looking in her direction, he said, 

"If you're looking for a bathroom, it's down there." 

Vaguely gesturing in the direction of a short corridor that Hermione hadn't even noticed before. 

Hurrying over, she muttered a quick "thank you" before shutting herself in the stony-looking room and getting ready as swiftly as possible. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Leaving the room a few minutes later, she saw that the common rooms were completely empty, with no sign that anyone had ever been there. 

She stopped still for a moment : seemingly forgetting that she was in a rush. Taking in her surroundings, she realised just how welcoming the Gryffindor common room actually was compared to Slytherin. 

The layout was pretty similar, but the warm colours in the Gryffindor common rooms were completely replaced by cool greens and steely silvers. Even the flames in the fireplace were almost silver as they flickered. 

Hermione thought that if she had to live in such a cold and unwelcoming place then she would quite surely go mad. 

Suddenly remembering that she had to be somewhere, she gathered her belongings and exited the living quarters as fast as she could. 

"Now then," she thought,"How do I get to the Great Hall without people knowing I came from the dungeons?"


	7. Bathroom bewilderment.

Hermione practically ran down the corridors, almost sending herself and several other people flying on several occasions. 

She had to go back on herself four times because the moving staircases wouldn't stop... well, moving. 

Racing down a corridor on the second floor, she saw some people giving her funny looks, but she didn't care. She could not be late on the very first day!

She was just about to pass the Girls' bathroom on the second floor when she heard a sort of wail coming from inside. 

"Oh, Merlin, I do not have time for Moaning Myrtle today."

Another wail. 

Hermione groaned, debating whether she should go into the bathrooms or just run off. 

Myrtle gave yet another theatrical moan before giving up and hissing,

"Would you just get in here?!"

Hermione heaved a great sigh before giving up and entering the abandoned toilets. She faked a small smile and tiptoed her way into the room. 

She immediately noticed that something was off about the room. There was some sort of metallic tinge to the air, one could almost taste it. She brushed it off quickly, quietly saying,

"Good Morning, Myrtle."

"Is it?!"

Was her reply from the ghost-who, at that moment in time, was sat facing away from Hermione with her arms folded: clearly in a huff. Then again, was she ever not? 

"Is it a good morning when I have another shedload of new witches, all bright as buttons and proud as punch with their newfound abilities, that think they can just waltz in here like they own the place and not give a damn about anyone that might already live here? Is it a good morning when there are more students at Hogwarts than ever before, none of whom seem to give a damn that ghosts have feelings too? I may not be able to feel that book going through me, but I sure as hell know it's there! Is it a good morning when not one, but two little wretches came in here before and had the nerve to laugh at me, and ask if I was real? Don't you say good morning to me, Miss Granger. All I am is good and it never gets me anywhere! Why should I even bother!"

Hermione would have tried to be civil but at that moment in time she was tired, crabby and frustrated. In the end, the nicest thing she could think to say was,

"All you are is good? Really?"

This was met with a sharp glare from Myrtle as she stormed over to Hermione, clearly even more enraged than a moment before. 

"Oh I'm sorry, but would you care to cast your thoughts back over who it was who pointed you in the direction of the basilisk in second year? Or who helped your famous buddy when he was being completely clueless towards the triwizard tournament back in fourth year? Who it was who hasn't alerted anybody about the shady things you and your little friends have gotten up to in here over the years?"

There was a short pause before Myrtle spoke again, and this time she seemed much calmer: maybe even a little taunting. 

"Even last night, I pointed that little boyfriend of yours into your direction. If it weren't for me, you might have spent all night in that corridor. Anyways, I know you don't want to be here, so you can just go away and have your breakfast. 

Go on. Leave!"

She yelled the last part, and Hermione was turning to leave. Just as she was halfway out of the door, she called back

"Ron isn't my boyfriend."

As the heavy door swung shut, Hermione could have sworn she heard Myrtle call back 

"I never said he was."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Shrugging it off, she jogged the rest of the way to the great hall. However hard she tried, she could not get Myrtle's words out of her mind. What was she on about? Everyone knew that (up until last night, at least) Ron and her were dating. 

So why on earth was Myrtle being so cryptic? The only man who found her last night sure as heck wasn't her boyfriend, after all. But she made it sound as though he was. She couldn't mean...

No. 

No, she couldn't. 

Shaking off the thoughts, she noticed that she had been stood in front of the hall doors for several seconds, so out of it that she hadn't even noticed that she had reached her destination. 

Heaving open the great doors that stood between her and the rest of the Hogwarts students, she hoped that everybody was too busy stuffing their faces to notice that she was late. 

Thankfully, they were. She grinned. Nobody would even notice her slip in a little late, and she wouldn't have to miss any start-of-year notices. 

She quickly scanned the Gryffindor bench, looking for her friends. She found them, but before she even took one step towards them, she was greeted with a sight that made her freeze in her tracks. 

Lavender and Ronald were sat at the Gryffindor table together, being all...

cuddley. 

She watched, sour-faced, as he popped a grape into her mouth and she smiled at him.

She didn't have to deal with this. Taking a few steps back, she half-turned and started walking back the way she came. Not running away, just... temporarily avoiding the problem. 

 

Looks like she was going to potions a little early today.


	8. Potions Partner

Hermione dawdled on her way back to the dungeons, not in quite the rush she was in before. After all, there was another half an hour before anybody else would get there. 

She only hoped that she would not miss any important notices that Professor McGonagall would have given out on the first day back at the school. For a while, she debated going back to the hall and just trying to ignore the wretched pair that she would undoubtedly have to face at some point. 

"That would never work," she thought. 

"And worse still, I may end up slapping the two of them, in front of the whole school this time."

Upon reaching the main doors to Professor Slughorn's classroom, a simple 'Alohamora' charm allowed her to enter the room almost half an hour before everybody else would finish their breakfast. That man never remembered to cast an impenetrable securing charm whilst the students weren't meant to be in lessons. She took her seat in the rear left corner of the room, got out her books and sighed. 

Hermione had sat at the very front of the class for the entire seven years of going there so far, as it enabled we to focus solely on the lesson and the teacher, rather than the several other rows of tedious chatter occurring in the room. This did often mean that she was on the receiving end of several jokes in her direction, but she didn't mind. Everybody knew that the front seat was her seat. However, she had been approached by certain teachers asking her to move to the back so they could focus on teaching other students who (at this moment in time) were less likely to pass their N.E.W.T.S than her. She had reluctantly agreed, and was now very much contented with that decision. At first, she had been rather put out at the fact that she would be moved away from Harry and Ron, but now she wanted as much time away from them as possible. She really needed to think. 

Since Harry and Ron were sat at the front towards the right hand side, and she was at the back on the far left, she was sat completely alone. She would just have to deal with that. 

She waited for a few minutes with nothing to do, before she started to hear very faint footsteps. No one should be out of the great hall this early. Well, except for her. There was around another quarter of an hour left before breakfast let out and people started to come to lessons. So why was there someone else in the dungeons so early? 

She was a little wary at this point. The castle did have quite the history of housing a multitude of strange and deadly things over the years, and the footsteps were getting closer. 

Maybe she was being crazy or just very sleep deprived, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Something in her brain told her that it would be a good idea to hide behind the door, and she decided to listen to it. 

The footfalls got gradually louder as she stood, rock-solid and alert, waiting for something to happen. She saw a movement in her peripheral vision and stood up straight, ready to face whatever it was. 

A few seconds earlier, Draco was hurtling down the moving staircase that led to the dungeons. He turned the corner, making his robes flourish behind him. 

He had Slughorn for potions first. Such joy(!) Draco sat alone in potions ever since Crabbe had died in the war. That's what people were calling it. They said that he "died in the war"

He supposed it was true, but nobody ever mentioned the fact that he perished in a fire of his own creation. Nobody ever mentioned the fact that he had dabbled with FiendFyre and that it had killed him. Nobody even mentioned the look of anguish on his father's face when he discovered the news. 

Draco was the one who had broken the news, in the end. It didn't feel right to have it come from someone else. 

Lost in thought, he rounded the final corner and came to the doors. They were slightly open, which was odd. All classrooms should be locked during breakfast. 

He shrugged it off and slipped inside. 

Only to crash face-first into somebody. Both of them went flying, before landing less-than-daintily on the stone, dungeon floor. 

Hermione rubbed her sore back, feeling thankful that she hadn't broken anything in the fall. She felt a surge of anger that for the second time in just a few hours, she had been hurt due to someone else's insolence. She turned, ready to give her attacker an earful before catching a glimpse of platinum hair and steel grey eyes. 

"Malfoy?!"

"Granger?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Me?! I'm not the one fixated with making sure I end up on the floor at every given opportunity!"

"It's not my fault you keep walking into me!"

"Well it's not my fault you're always in my way, Granger."

They were up off the floor at this point, staring each other in the eyes and trying not to be too loud so that they didn't attract the attention of the whole castle. They glared fiercely at one another for a few seconds before simultaneously 'losing their cool' and quietly snickering to themselves. 

Hermione thought it strange that they were so much more comfortable with one-another after just one day of not being at each-other's throats, but she went along with it. She needed all the friends she could get. 

They sat at Hermione's desk together, at least until the lesson was due to start.   
"Why'd you skip out on breakfast?" Hermione asked. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Draco replied, half smirking. "Anyway, what about you, Granger? I thought breakfast was the most important meal of the day." Draco inquired as they gently flopped down into their seats, neither one really wanting to move again for a while. 

"Ron."

She replied. 

That was all that was needed. 

She had already explained her predicament to him last night. 

She added a quick   
"And Lavender."  
onto the end, but it was unnecessary. 

"Didn't want to deal with them?" Hermione nodded and Draco let out a small huff of laughter before adding "Don't blame you, I think it was putting half of the hall off their food."

Draco decided to change the subject rather swiftly, but a large growl distracted him from all thoughts of conversing before he could. 

Looking round the classroom he could not find the source of the noise. That was, until his eyes fell on Hermione's face: rapidly becoming a shade of red much akin to a beetroot. 

"Merlin, Hermione, even the mandrakes aren't that loud!"

Anyone in the dungeons would have been able to hear the sounds of her dainty giggle and his breathy chuckle even from the other end of the corridor. Luckily for them, their laughs went undetected by anyone but themselves. 

"I take it you didn't manage to get any food before coming down here."

He added, after they had both stopped half-laughing. 

She shook her head no, and he sighed theatrically. 

Watching Draco digging around in the satchel he carried with him, she wondered what on earth he was doing. After a minute or so, he produced a glossy, green apple and gently tossed it into her awaiting hands. She thanked him and took a bite, smiling graciously in his direction. 

She had barely finished chewing her last crisp mouthful before the signal for lessons went, and Draco started to pack away the few belongings he had gotten out back into his satchel. 

Before she could stop herself, Hermione blurted out,  
"Where are you going?" just as Draco stood up. 

"I'm going to sit down, in my seat. Is there a problem, Granger?"

Face flushed at his blunt reply, she remarked,  
"No, nothing. I mean, you could stay here, if you like. It might be more practical, instead of us working separately on our own, and I was just saying, you don't have to if you don't want to..."

Hermione trailed off. 

She stopped focusing on her hands in her lap, and looked up for a second only to see that Draco had already sat down again. 

A few students started to file in, and Hermione got out her quill. First quill of the school year. 

Maybe she wouldn't have to suffer through potions alone for now. 

Throwing a brief smile at her new potions partner, she looked forwards again, ready to focus solely on the lesson. After all, she wouldn't want to be caught daydreaming on the very first day back.


	9. Owl ordeals

Potions dragged on. 

And on. 

And on. 

After the initial incident prompting their partnership in potions, Hermione and Draco had sat in painfully awkward silence for what had felt like hours. 

At the start, the pair had scoured their minds trying to find something to talk about, some common interest that could repel the awkwardness for a few minutes at least: but nothing had come to mind, and silence had prevailed. 

When the students eventually started to finish their breakfast and inhabit the classroom their partnership went predominantly unnoticed, until Harry and Ron walked in. 

Harry and Ron had both previously known that Hermione wouldn't be sitting with them in potions anymore, and she had discussed the fact that she would be moving to the very back so if they wanted any help with their homework (especially you, Ron) then they would have to make time out of lessons from now on. Neither of them had been best pleased, and had offered to move to the back with her, but that idea was shot down by almost all of the professors that they had asked. Even so, Hermione didn't think that she would have wanted to sit by Ronald anyway now. She would have to face the issue eventually, but hiding from it for a while wouldn't do anyone any harm. For now, at least. 

As the boys walked into the room, Hermione instantly drew into herself. Draco didn't really seem to notice at first, but the daggers being sent at the both of them by Ron soon caught his attention and he visibly tensed before sending a warning glare back and dropping the issue. 

The real problem was that Hermione was unoccupied, and Ron was persistent. 

It seemed like every two or three seconds he was looking over his shoulder, and Hermione had absolutely no work to do. Meaning that every time he did, she saw cocktail of sadness, resent, hate and bitterness conflicting in his eyes. 

She was glad when potions was over, so that she could just leave. Ronald had looked like he was going to come over and talk to her, but that was not going to happen. She was the first out of that door once they were free to go. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

However, she was not glad for long as she realised that right now it was her break. The school had left room in the students' timetable for the extra long breakfast-slash-assembly by cutting out first lesson altogether. This meant that she now had a free study period, where she, Harry and Ron would go to the library or the common rooms and work. 

Well, she would work. They would talk about the next quidditch match, or girls, or detentions that they had gotten for not working. Boys will be boys. 

Anyway, she didn't want to go to either of those places in case they would be there. Namely, in case He would be there. She decided to wander about for a bit, and after a while she found that she was subconsciously taking the route to the owlery. 

Following her feet, she decided to head up there. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Upon arrival, she pulled her robes further across her body to fight the biting winds and stepped inside. 

"Well, since I'm here I may as well write a letter to someone..." 

She muttered aloud to no one in particular. 

"Someone, but who?"

All of her school friends would be here, and the only people she had to write to outside of school were her parents or the Weasley family. 

And she could call her parents on the mobile that they had given after one of the owls that she had sent them had cracked their front window. 

So the Weasleys it was. 

But which one?

She had never been particularly close to Percy or Bill. She knew that Charlie was somewhere in Romania, but she didn't know where or how to contact him. She felt awkward contacting Mr.Weasley as he was probably very busy and she didn't want to distract him. Ginny was already in school, there was no way in hell that she was going anywhere near Ron unless it was absolutely necessary, and Mrs.Weasley would only cause a fuss. Which only left one person. 

George. 

She had always enjoyed the company of the twins, and George had needed someone to lean on in these past few months ever since... Well, ever since it had happened. 

Scrabbling for some of her spare parchment, she pulled out a quill and a bottle of ink, set herself down and started to write. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Dear George,

Where do I begin?

I'll start with the obvious ; I'm not sure if Ron told you, but he and I are no longer together. He is with Lavender now, and has been for the past two months. Since we only ended it last night, I'm sure that you can fill in the gaps yourself. At the minute I am not speaking to him, but I did not want that to make us lose contact. I still very much see you as a friend and I don't want to lose you. 

I hope that you are doing well after Fred's passing. Ginny tells me that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes should be back in business very soon, and I am glad. Not just because slipping Ronald some puking pastilles sounds very appealing right now, but because I'm glad to hear that you are...healing. Fred was among the best of wizards and muggles alike, and being without him must be harder than I can even fathom, but I am glad to hear that you are still quite you. 

Please give my love to everybody, what happened between Ronald and I most certainly doesn't mean that I want to lose touch with any of you. 

Especially you, George. Don't tell anyone, but when you still attended Hogwarts I often looked forward to seeing whatever it was that you and Fred would come up with to terrorise the staff and student body next. 

Fondest wishes,

Hermione. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She rolled up the parchment and walked over to one of the owls. 

"Surely no-one will miss one owl for a few days." 

She thought to herself. 

As she told the owl where to go, it stretched out his wings and looked her dead in the eyes whilst keeping a firm yet soft grip on her rolled-up letter within his talons. 

Watching the owl take flight and soar off into the distance, Hermione drank in the sights from her high up position. 

Almost missing the signal that the lesson was over, she hurried down the stone steps back towards the main body of the castle. That letter had taken her longer to write than she thought! 

Turning her head slightly she looked up at the owlery and back down t the ground. 

She sighed. 

Where next?


	10. Delusional Dreams

Chapter Ten. 

Hermione stumbled back towards the Gryffindor common rooms, almost asleep while she was walking. Defence Against the Dark Arts had really taken it out of her today, and she had had her prefect duty to complete on top of that. It was understandable that D.A.D.A was still a required subject in order to finish the N.E.W.T.S, but they did have some work done from last year! Could they not ease off a little until the first day back at Hogwarts was over? 

Just a few more corridors now, and the Fat Lady had better be there when she arrived this time! She had enough trouble yesterday, and as comfortable as Draco's four poster bed was, she had no intention of borrowing it again tonight. Anyhow, she doubted that she would be so lucky as to find a second person roaming the castle so late, as she always stayed out on patrol later than all of the other prefects just to make sure that the job got done right and to the best of her ability. This usually resulted in some tiredness, but no more than she would usually have after a night spent staying up late to study. 

She approached the portrait and mumbled the password: feeling relieved when the painting creaked open immediately this time. She gave the Fat Lady her thanks, very rapidly, and shuffled through to the empty common rooms. 

The fire in the common rooms was dimming, not much left now save for the embers illuminating the room. Stairs seemed like such an unnecessary effort right now when just falling asleep on one of the sofas would be so easy, but somehow she managed to stumble upstairs and collapse into bed: still fully clothed at this point. 

She slipped out of her uniform and into her pyjamas quite quickly, albeit with a lack of grace. That didn't really matter since it was currently darker than a pit full of Devil's Snare at midnight in the dorm rooms, and the remainder of the people in the room were fast asleep. 

Crawling into bed, Hermione bundled the cotton sheets into her fists before relaxing and slowly sinking into a deep sleep. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hermione was walking. 

Walking fast, down some sort of hallway or corridor. Blurred faces passed by before she had time to register who or what they actually were, not that she was really paying that much attention to them in the first place. 

One blur in particular seemed to be heading straight towards her, and she couldn't find it in herself to move out of its path. She carried on walking and it carried on advancing, until they were only a few feet away from each other. Finally, her body decided to slow itself down to avoid a collision, and the figure opposite came into focus. 

Of course it was Ronald. 

Who else would it be? She was surprised it took her so long to realise that she was walking down one of the lesser used corridors of Hogwarts. One that she and the boys had frequented in their first year: before the whole three-headed-dog, troll-in-the-dungeons, Quirrell-has-a-man-on-his-head debacle. 

But why was he here, did he want something? No words passed between the two, only stares as they inched closer still. She looked up into his eyes, wary yet still not trying to pull away. Maybe he would speak up in a minute. 

Or maybe not. 

There was always the possibility that he would just remain silent and stony faced, looking almost through her without either of them doing a thing about it. 

Great. 

How bloody helpful. 

"Ron," she said, finally deciding to take matters into her own hands "is there something you need?"

No reply

"Ron, you've been staring at me for quite some time. If there's something you want to say just say it."

Still no reply. 

"Ronald, just bloody say something!"

He cracked at that, a smile dragging at his lips. 

"Say something? But I thought you liked it better when I didn't say anything. When I was secretive, but you didn't care."

"Didn't care? I didn't KNOW."

"And weren't you so much happier. So much more carefree."

"Where are you going with this, Ronald?"

"So much happier than now, weren't you? Doesn't a part of you wish you just left it alone, even if you had found out, because then at least you'd still have something. Something other than that blonde bimbo you're best mates with all of a sudden."

He was calm. That was what felt so menacing about the situation.

He wasn't getting riled, or blushing, or apologising. He wasn't showing any emotion. That was what tipped her off. 

When she would tease him, he grew red faster than you could say "chocolate frogs". If he was passionate about something, you could see it in his face. He would sound strained when he lied, he was giddy and hyper when he was excited, he spoke at a million miles an hour when he was annoyed, he sounded drained of all energy when he was sad. All of the things that Hermione had noticed not just in their relationship, but in their friendship too. All the years of being together, all the little tells and characteristics that she had picked up over the years. 

None of them were present. 

Not one. 

"You're not real."

"Your friendship with that blonde prat isn't real, but that doesn't seem to matter. Why should it matter when it's me: the one you were almost in love with?"

"Get away from me, I need to wake up."

He grabbed her forearm and it seemed so real she could almost feel the immense amounts of pressure he was putting on it, something He would never do. He wouldn't hurt her, not like this anyway. 

He kept squeezing, and she was starting to feel it now. Why did this hurt? It's not Ron, it can't be. She knows Ron. He isn't this. 

She thought he wasn't this. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She shot up in bed, hair flying out behind her. She brought her hands to her mouth and forced back the tears threatening to escape. She must have slept on her arm, which was what she could feel in the dream. Thank Merlin she did, or who knows when she would have woken up. 

It was still dark outside as it was, and she rolled over heaving a sigh. Might as well resign to not getting any more sleep tonight.


End file.
